Strangers
by bassgoddess
Summary: Details the relationship between Lucy and Dr. JekyllMr. Hyde. Lots of fluff! Please R&R!
1. Default Chapter

Lucy Harris was desperate. She ran to the shattered mirror that had broken when Spyder had finished with her and slammed the door. Tears streaming down her face, she picked up the longest, meanest-looking shard and brought it to her wrist. She yanked it across the pale, thin skin, tearing it apart and drawing blood. She was heaving tears; her small, thin body wracked with sobs. Sitting on the floor, she leaned her back against the bed and waited, waited, waited as the blood coursed from her wrist. She watched the steady trickle, reclined her head and said to herself, "yes, at last it's over."

At fourteen she had come here, to the Red Rat. She had been abandoned after her mother died, and wandered the streets, begging for food, until she met Gwynnie. Gwendolyn Blythe had rescued her from the elements; but indeed, as Lucy soon discovered, her problems were just about to begin.

She sang and danced at a mock dinner show the tavern held every night. Good folk tunes and drinking songs, sung and danced by the beautiful girls of the tavern. She served the men of the bar drinks and laughed with them, although she wasn't always sure what they were talking about. And then, three months after she had come to the Red Rat, Spyder, the owner, a tall, thin, menacing man decided she should be doing what the girls referred to as "workin' the upstairs". Lucy remembered clearly how he came into her room to tell her what a wonderful job she was doing serving drinks and performing, locking the door behind him. She remembered how his foul breath smelled as he assaulted her mouth with his own. She remembered him slapping her several times across the face for fighting with him as he struggled to remove her clothing. She remembered him ripping some of the garment from her, forcing her legs apart and coldly, cruelly, entering her, tearing her virginity brutally as if it meant nothing. That was her first time, but Spyder decided that night that it would not be their last. He visited her at least twice a week after that for another year. He was cooler in his visits now, now that Lucy was nearly nineteen and a favorite of the customers.

Her life had become one big blur. Endless days faded into endless nights. Her world consisted of lying on a bed for the majority of the day with her legs spread, and allowing any and every man to enter. After years of detesting and hating anything and everything about the Red Rat and numerous attempts at running away, she had become broken. Broken in mind and body and numb. It was then she decided to take her own life...

"Luce...Luce...you're gonna be awright...there's a doctor 'ere...a real gent!" Lucy heard Gwynnies' voice and murmurs in the background, but sleeping felt so nice, and she was tired, so tired, and dizzy. Her eyes fluttered and closed. A hand on her face. All of a sudden, smelling salts beneath her nose jerked her eyes open. Her eyes darted about wildly as she brought her arms up. Strong arms lifted her onto the bed and gently placed her head on the pillow. "Luce...this gent is...what was your name love?" More murmurs. "Doctor Jekyll, Luce! You're goin'ta be awright, love!" Then she heard "madam, would you please get everyone out of here, the patient needs no additional confusion."

Through her eyelids, she saw a dark shape move; someone's head in front of the dim lamplight. "Miss Harris...Miss Harris..." the voice was soothing. She felt a cool rag pressed to her forehead. "Miss Harris...do open your eyes." Lucy groggily obeyed. Her lids felt as if they'd been pasted shut. She finally got them open and her tired eyes rested on the handsome face of a gentleman. He spoke slowly and surely.

"Miss Harris, I am Doctor Jekyll. I believe your friend Gwynnie found you and called for a doctor in the house. I am here with my colleagues. You are going to be fine. You've lost a lot of blood and you will be feeling very weak for several days. It's lucky your friend found you when she did. I would try to eat as much as I could in order to regain my strength if I were you." She looked up at him "Thank you, Doctor Jekyll." He turned back and smiled.

"You must call me Henry, Miss Harris." Lucy smiled faintly back, "and you must call me Lucy." I put weight on my hands to sit up, but flinched at the pain. "A fairly deep incision, Lucy. I have bandaged it with salve to the best of my ability. You must change the dressing daily. I will leave you some other bandages." She pushed herself up the rest of the way so she was sitting up on the bed with him. "Thank you for your kindness, 'enry." He went about the business of packing up his medical kit. "Lucy, it's none of my business in the least but...why? What would make you feel you had no way out?" Lucy looked away, then started talking, for some reason unloading all of her troubles on the doctor, her saviour. "'enry, you have no idea what it is like here. I have been here for five years now, and at times, it seems so...hopeless." Lucy tried to prevent it, but a tear rolled down my cheek and off into the bed sheet. "I'm sorry..." Lucy started. Henry seemed embarrassed, as if he did not know what to do. An emotional female seemed foreign to him. "There, there Lucy", he said, turning his back to produce his handkerchief. "Please don't cry" he started. Lucy leaned her head over, bending at the waist, and sobbed into the handkerchief. Henry's hand went to her back and slowly, methodically rubbed it, as a parent would to a child. Lucy sat up and blew her nose into the handkerchief. Henry slid further in to her and, after hesitating, wrapped her in his arms. She put her head down into his chest and continued to sob. Henry was impressed by the deep, wracking sobs this poor creature was emitting. He took a chance to observe his surroundings. Broken mirror on the floor, torn curtains, torn bed sheets, dark wood everywhere, only a small dim lamp lighting the room. The entire room felt damp and mildewy. Holding this strange woman in his arms left him with an unsettling feeling. He was, however, glad for some strange reason that he could provide her a little solace.

Lucy wrapped her arms underneath Henry's as she sobbed. He did not move, but afforded her his chest to cry on for a quarter of an hour. Slowly, Lucy's sobs subsided and she pulled away. "I'm so sorry, Doctor Jekyll...I...I don't know what came over me."

Henry did not know what to do; his experience with the fairer sex was limited to his overtly kind, caring, rarely moody fiancee, Emma Carew. "Miss Harris...I need to know that when I leave you are going to be alright. You won't try...to do this again." Lucy regarded him with tired, empty eyes. Another tear rolled down her tired face. "No, Doctor Jekyll, I'll be awright. Thank you for your kindness this afternoon."

"Lucy, I will be back to check on you." Her face brightened. "Now, I've already asked that some food be brought up for you. It would please me greatly if you were to eat everything and then rest." Alarm shot through Lucy's mind...she'd be expected to work tonight just like any other. She had to lie to him, though she hated to do so. "Yes, sir. Nothing tonight but food an' rest." She managed a smile. He smiled back, "Very well, then. I must take my leave of you Miss Lucy. I will give you my card if you should need me before my next visit. I do hope you fall on better times than you've received." He placed his card in her hand, his hat on his head, tipped it in her direction, and with his chapeau a bras over his arm, descended the stairs.

Lucy lay back, thinking of the kind doctor's face. How gentle he was when he handled her. And to let her cry without end on his shoulder. She smiled. She looked at his card. 46 Harley Street. A wonderful area of town, of course. She tucked the card into the night table by the bed. Her mind set to work at once building a future between herself and Doctor Jekyll.

Lucy enjoyed a meager dinner of some kind of beef stew and dry, possibly stale bread, but she savored it, for she hadn't eaten this well in a while. She was resting when she heard a knock at the door. Before she could respond, Spyder entered. Her blood froze and she lay stunned on the bed. "Now, Luce, you know 'ow this goes. I only makes money if you work, see? If you get sick or try to off yourself, I ain't gettin' nothin', see? You's one of my prized girls, you are. What is a visit to the Red Rat without a visit to Miss Luce?" Lucy regarded him, reclining against the headboard, certain of what he wanted. "Lucky for you, the good doctor was 'ere. He refused money for his service, he did." Lucy was surprised that Henry had been so kind; then again, who really would pay him? "Now, me girl, I'm afraid I got to punish you. Set an example outta you." She turned her head away from him, and he chuckled, a deep menacing laugh. "Come on love, over before you know it", he said, and approached her on the bed.


	2. Chapter two

Lucy was dressed within half an hour, and, with the exception of her poor wrist, she looked radiant as ever. She had a tiny waist, accentuated even more so by her tight corset. All that she wore with that were her breeches, stockings, and boots. Tonight she sang the "Bring on the Men" song that the customers adored so. It was more brassy than she liked to sing, but always well received. A tall blond gentleman came to her to make conversation. His name was Peter and he was a barrister. He was not remarkably good looking, but pleasant to talk to, and undeniably generous with her drinks. He whispered in her ear to go upstairs and she obliged, stopping to show him how to pay at the bar. Then she escorted him upstairs to her room and it began all over again.

Less than a week later, Henry Jekyll came back into her life. And it was sooner than she had expected! Of course, Spyder wouldn't just let him tend to her. He had to pay at the bar like any other customer which thoroughly embarrassed Lucy. Not only was this man helping her, he had to pay to do it!

"I'm so sorry Dr. Jekyll" she spoke, turning her head behind her to him as they went up the stairs.

"Lucy, how many times am I going to have to ask you to call me Henry" he said lightly.

She smiled, "Sorry...'enry." They went in the second door to the left, her usual room, and she sat on the bed. Henry pulled a chair near the window over to her, placed his kit on the floor, and opened it, poking around. "So, Miss Lucy, how have you been feeling?" He asked.

"Just fine, 'enry... in fact...marvelous actually." Henry, with his back turned toward her, chuckled.

"Marvelous...why, my dear Lucy, what has happened that was so marvelous?" She was smiling full at him and then; it slipped out, "because you're 'ere."

He froze. He hadn't meant it to be so obvious to her, but he was sure it had been. Lucy's smile was replaced by a look of indifference, 'what have you done, girl' she hissed to herself.

Henry, ever the gentleman, filled the awkward silence when he turned to her, and quietly said, "and that's all it takes, Miss Lucy?" She looked him square in the eyes and felt her face flush. She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't. Henry felt uncomfortable. Lucy, it appeared, was developing a liking to him, the very idea of which, hadn't even occurred to him, yet. Then he realized, he had paid, gone up the stairs, and rightfully, he could take her now. But he held back. Lucy needed a friend, and he had been that so far, never contemplating their relationship might exist on several levels. He was acutely aware of the fact that she hadn't responded; in fact, no one had said anything for several moments. His hands went to his case to remove the salve for her wrist, but he stilled when he felt her hands on his. He looked up into her eyes, as she regarded him. Her face had become, tight, questioning, as his was now. She brought her lips to his ever so softly and gave him a gentle kiss. It was only a moment, but he felt fire, and she hesitated for a split second before drawing back, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, 'enry...I...I don't know what came over me" she said. Henry was regarding her strangely, and Lucy was caught unawares when he suddenly cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her. He kissed her softly, sweetly, and she made a little sound in the back of her throat. He thought this was happening so fast, but he was completely aroused at this point. 'How strange,' he thought, 'that this woman can make me feel like this without hardly doing anything'. He contemplated this as he pushed her backwards onto the bed. He continued to work at parting her lips with his tongue, until the kiss grew into something hot, fiery, lusty. Her hands went to his shirt, slid under it, and ran up against the smooth skin of his back. Lucy started unbuttoning his shirt, when Henry realized he could either stop now, or be lost forever. "Lucy" he spoke softly as his hands gently restrained her wrists. "We cannot do this...not like this," he said, then, to her wonder, kissed her again and sat up, pulling her with him.

Henry immediately went back at the task at hand, to bandage her wrist in an effort to hide his discomfort. He removed the jar of salve from his case, and set about to cut some new gauze bandages for it. "'enry..." she started "why are you bein' so kind to me?" He didn't respond, he couldn't. "I want to give you something, love...for helping me." Henry looked at her, and the realization of what she was offering him made him both amazed and sorrowful. He wondered that she felt she had to give him something, something so personal. The man in him wanted to go over and taste her, to lay her down and take her all at once, to make love to her in every sense of the word. He stared at her, his eyes straying to her corset, then shut his eyes and said, "no". This was almost a blow to Lucy, she was trying to give the only thing she knew how, only she didn't want to...not just yet.

His eyes still closed, Henry said, "Lucy, as for now I can only take friendship from you, nothing more. I am flattered and surprised, but I do not wish to take advantage of you like this. Please don't feel you are indebted to me in any way." Lucy almost cried at what a gentleman he was. Then Henry patched her wrist and walked to the door. "I will come again, Miss Lucy", he said, almost in a trance like state.

"That would be lovely, 'enry. Until then," she said, and he put on his hat, tipped it to her, and left.

What had she done? Lucy wondered if she would ever see him again; probably not, she thought. Why had she offered herself to him? Why had she kissed him? More importantly, why had he kissed her? He _had_ kissed her. The remembrance of it lulled her to sleep.


	3. Chapter three

Lucy hadn't seen Dr. Jekyll in several days when she wanted to go to him. She had his card, so she could, but she was afraid to scare him away. She had no business going to see him unless she needed a friend. Later that night, she would need just that. Lucy Harris met Edward Hyde that evening. He was slightly drunk, taller and larger than most of the men in the bar, with a quiet desperation in his eyes. He had some inner demons, a monologue going on inside him which was outwardly visible, and Lucy wanted to meet this complicated man. He did not say much about himself, other than he was a very good lover and entranced by her. He kept telling her that she'd never forget him, and she'd never be alone again. Lucy wanted to take it as kind words, that she'd never be alone, but his voice held a menacing tone which both frightened and excited her.

Edward Hyde was a very skilled lover, indeed. In fact, perhaps the best she'd ever had. Anything taboo, they did. Anything she hadn't done before, they did. They became a tangle of lips and tongue and legs and sweat. It was mid October, and they had to open the windows. They made love for four and a half hours. Over and over again, and right before it was finished, Edward Hyde, who hadn't spoken all evening, put his hands around Lucy's neck and squeezed. Her hands immediately went to his, surprised and frightened. She fought and clawed, but to no avail, as his fingers continued to tighten until she lost consciousness.

Lucy awoke an hour later. She did not know what time of day it was, or really where she was, but she remembered the hands on her neck, choking her. She looked down at her dress, torn nearly to shreds. She stood up, but dizziness overtook her, and she was back on the floor again. Slowly standing up, she went to her armoire, if you could call it that, removed another dress, and deftly laced it and hooked it up. She reached into her nighttable and pulled out Dr. Jekyll's card. She wordlessly, soundlessly snuck downstairs during the show and out into the horrible rain. It was so dark and cold, and the rain was coming down in such sheets that she took a moment to adjust herself and get her bearings. She proceeded north, out of the Whitechapel district towards Eastham; towards Harley street.

The walk seemed interminably long, perhaps an hour or so, when she finally saw Dr. Jekyll's house. Dr. Jekyll's mansion, really. Huge, dark, slightly gothic in form, and menacing-looking. She doubted if her feet could carry her in. The thunder and lightning was worsening. She brought herself to the door and knocked loudly four times. She was met with a pleasant-faced older gentleman who must be Henry's butler.

"Good evening, Miss—" he started, regarding her skeptically.

"Harris. Lucy Harris, " she continued, "I'm 'ere to see Doctor Jekyll."

"May I ask what business you have with the doctor?" he asked coolly.

He wasn't going to let her see him, she was sure of it. She reached into her pocket and produced his card. "Doctor Jekyll gave me this, and instructed me to use it, if I so should need." she replied.

Poole looked at the card, then at her, then said, "Wait here, miss." He shut the door in her face. Now she was out, in the rain, in front of the doctor's house.

'He's not going to let me see him,' she thought to herself, and panic seized her. Just then the door opened.

"Right this was, miss." Poole pulled open the door, so she could walk inside the house. She was immediately greeted by a rush of warmth. Perhaps several fires were going in the house. "This way, miss".

Poole led her down the hallway, decorated with rich velvets, brocades and the like. Beautiful mirrors and chandeliers hung from the walls. She had never been to such a magnificent place. He opened a door and gestured her inside. "The doctor will be with you momentarily, miss." Lucy regarded the room. Her eyes immediately lit on the plush chair near the fireplace. A fire hissed and crackled, and she smiled and went over to the chair, plopping down, then thinking the better of it, quickly standing, and sitting ever so elegantly on the edge. She held her hands to the fire, warming them.

"Miss Lucy, " started a deep baritone voice. She smiled as best she could, and turned to face the doctor. His smile immediately faded from his face. He looked at her quizzically. She did not know that he was not regarding her; rather the large bruised patches of skin on either side of her neck. He rushed to her side. "Lucy...my dear, what has happened?" She wondered what he was getting at, but as his hands met the skin at the sides of her neck, she flinched and let out a slight yelp of pain. "A real english gentleman, " she started. "He did a lovely job."

"Miss Lucy, please sit. I'll be right back." She heard him rush to the hall and shout, "Poole, my kit," and then a muffled , "At once, sir." He came back and gave her a weak smile.

"Lucy, did you not see your neck?" he asked her. Her smile faded as she replied, "no". Henry went to his table, bringing back a small, hand held mirror which he held up to her face. Lucy almost fell over; she was shocked. The left side of her neck had been slightly bent, and she was holding her head slightly to that side. Large bruises and what looked like teeth marks ran from the base of the ear to her collarbone. The right side had bruises, smaller, but more red, like there had been bleeding under the skin. Her hands went to her mouth as she gasped, her eyes tearing.

She seemed as if she was staring into space when she said, "I won't forget 'is name in an hurry, though. Hyde. Edward Hyde." The look of concern he had on his face but a minute earlier vanished. It was replaced by a look of horror, as the blood slowly drained from his face. Lucy noticed the change and made a move to say something, but a look in his eyes stopped her. His eyes resumed their look of concern, and then, the moment had passed.

Henry put down the mirror, "it's alright, Lucy. I'm going to take care of everything." His hands went to her shoulders and he walked her back to the chair, lightly pressing, so she sat down. He turned back to his kit and a small bowl of what looked like hot water. There was steam coming off it. He brought a hot towel to her neck, and she immediately tensed as the hot water burned her, but then settled, as the water felt comforting against the angry bruises. As he wiped the other side of her neck, he spoke. "Miss Lucy, I do believe you are down on your luck, or so it seems." She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "I guess you could say that", she replied as the hot water was applied to the other side of her neck. She felt his hands in her hair, gloriously stroking, then pinning it up at the top of her head with his hand. He reached into his kit and brought out a bandage clip, holding the hair in place with it and replacing his hand.

He brought his chair close to the one she'd been sitting on. His proximity made her momentarily glance away. He lifted his hand, covered in cold cream to the left side of her neck. She flinched slightly, but the cool salve felt good on her bruised skin. She regarded the fire, crackling, hissing, loving it's warmth, it's comfort. Then his hand went to the other side of her neck and she turned her head, catching his gaze head on. Henry glanced away, to the right side of her neck as he applied the salve, tenderly rubbing it in. His hand stilled. Lucy looked at him with her lips parted. Her breathing sped up. His head dipped, and his lids closed as he moved closer to her. She pulled back slightly, startled, as he moved farther forward, meeting her in a gentle kiss. Lucy's hand reached in between them to gently push his shirt; but ended up pulling him closer. This was perhaps the first kiss she'd ever wanted. Henry drew back, looking at her face, but only for a moment as he moved in to start another kiss.

"Oh God," Lucy thought, "I'm kissing him, and he's kissing me..." she couldn't think. Her brain was focused on the feelings he was igniting between her legs. Such a simple kiss, but promising so much more. Henry drew back and regarded her. Her face looked beautiful, he though. Lips swollen from his kiss, hair pinned up with tendrils falling around the sides of her face. He ran his hand down her neck to the swell of her breast, where the lace met fabric on her bodice. Her breath hitched. He looked into her eyes, and slowly ran his hand back up to her neck. Then back down. She closed her eyes. He wasn't really trying to seduce her, just to enjoy her, but, he found, he was arousing her, as he himself was becoming aroused. His hand ran up to her neck again and he fit her neck between his thumb and forefinger. 'How easy it would be to squeeze', he thought, then stopped, horrified at his mind. 'He…I've…caused her so much pain already…'. Abruptly he turned away. He got up and walked to the table, to his kit. Lucy looked into the fire, away from him. An awkward silence followed, as Henry packed his kit.

"Miss Harris, I will give you a jar of salve and ask that you apply it twice a day." More silence. She rose from the fire, and walked over to him, her eyes locked on his the whole way. She seemed sure of what she was going to say. She looked him squarely in the eyes and said, "I love you."


	4. Chapter four

Henry paused for a moment, his hands coming to rest atop his medical case. She hadn't. She couldn't. His relationship with this woman was becoming more complicated by the day. Had she been a noblewoman perhaps he would be able to respond to her in kind. As it was, she was a prostitute, a lady of the night, and he was engaged to Miss Emma Carew. Emma. How strange that she had hardly figured into his thoughts these last few days. Often he was consumed by work, and did not think on her. But he had thought of Lucy. Lucy Harris, who represented every sinful urge, thought, and desire of mankind. She made him forget things. Forget that he was a doctor, furiously searching for some cure for his self-inflicted torment; forget that she sold her body to the highest bidder; forget he was otherwise engaged.

Every time he and Lucy touched, he felt fire. He was drawn to her unconsciously, as a moth to a flame.

This could not happen. No! He was a gentleman after all, and he would not do this to Emma. He would not jeopardize his work, his credibility, his life's pursuit for this…common trollop.

His eyes grew dark as he felt anger towards her; anger which threatened to consume him. How dare she confuse him so! How dare she come between him and his medical pursuits! How dare she interfere with his seemingly perfect façade of a life!

Realizing no words had passed since Lucy had declared her love, he spoke; his voice flat and devoid of emotion.

"You don't know me, Miss Harris."

Of course. It was to be expected. How could she have fooled herself into thinking he would have feelings for her.

"Doctor Jekyll…I thought-"

"You thought what, Lucy?" he said, his tone cold, mocking, as his anger escalated. "You mistook my simple kindness for affection. What? You think because I offered you my help, because I did not force myself on you that there is something between us?"

He let out a small, cold chuckle which forced the tears that had been gathering at the corners of her eyes to fall. What was happening?

"You honestly think when I am engaged to a gentlewoman….a lady….I would harbor any intentions towards someone like you?"

She opened her mouth to explain that she had not known of his engagement, but no sound came, save the undiscernable sound of tears rolling down her face, leaving sodden tracks in their wake.

"Perhaps I should have tumbled you that first day….", he approached her, taking quick, calculated strides. "Perhaps I should have taken you like the whore you are!"

Before she could respond, he caught her off guard, pushing her up against the wall, pinning her with his weight. His voice was raised, he was practically screaming, as she frantically struggled against him. "Perhaps I still should!"

His eyes were cold, cruelty beginning to spread through them as he gave her a grin; a smile which made her let out a small cry. As she struggled, he pulled several coins from his vest pocket, slamming them down on a nearby end table. She glanced down at the coins as he roughly grabbed her face between thumb and forefinger and brought it to his, their bodies still pressed together.

"Consider it ample payment for your…services…," he shouted at her, as she hysterically struggled, tears still falling.

His mouth slammed down on hers, his tongue invading her mouth. His hand worked quickly tearing at the top of her corset. She brought her forearms up to press against his chest, but he grabbed them. She knew it then. 'He means to take me like this. Up against his wall. Oh God…not like this…' she thought to herself.

He grabbed her by the forearms and pushed her face first onto his chaise. The strangest thing happened next. She turned her head behind her to see Jekyll double over, wrapping his arms around himself as his body began to contort violently. He looked up, sorrow and pain in his eyes as he spasmed and choked out, "Lucy….get out of here….now…..please…."

She was horrified beyond words. She managed to spring up, out of his study, running through the elegant hallway. She pulled open the heavy front door and ran out into the rain, not noticing the sting of the acid water on her injured skin.

Henry Jekyll hit the floor silently, his body finally coming to rest. It had happened again. He could not control it now. There was no Jekyll, only Hyde.


	5. Chapter five

Edward Hyde scoured the filthy streets of London's Whitechapel district, looking for trouble. He found it, in the form of several prostitutes, huddled together on the side of the street.

"Anythin' we can do for ya tonight, guv'na," one of the girls said brazenly, taking a step towards him.

"Oh yes, love!" he exclaimed, suddenly excited. "Which one of you ladies would like to have a good time?"

The small girl who had been talking to him replied, "I would, sir. M'name's Mary, guv'na."

He glanced over to the other three women huddled together and let out a low chuckle. "And how old would you be, miss Mary?"

"I'm nearly fourteen, sir. I'll give ya good time, no need to worry…"

Spotting an older lady in the crowd, he spoke. "Now my dear, why would I want a girl," he nodded his head towards Gwynnie, the older woman, "when I could have a woman."

Gwynnie didn't move at first; something in his cold voice chilled her. She responded quietly, "She's practically untouched, sir. I'm sure you'd much rather have the girl-"

"Don't presume to tell me what I want, you brazen hussy!" he spat at her, approaching the side of the street where she stood.

"Why would I pick an inexperienced child when I could have a woman who knows what to do with a man?"

He chuckled again, and Gwynnie stepped back, but she did not move away, for he extended his hand, piled high with coins. She looked at him questioningly. He raised an eyebrow.

"What, not enough?"

"It's not that sir….it's….quite a good deal of money, is all."

"Trust me, my dear, before this night is through you will have earned every penny of it."

She glanced back to the group of girls, said her goodbyes, whispered for them to be careful, then took Hyde's offered arm.

They walked in silence, his hands roaming her body blatantly in the middle of the street. She did not say anything, for she was afraid of him. His mouth went to her ear which he nibbled gently as she felt the first stirring of heat deep in her belly. They moved around a corner on Lancaster street, and she was pushed roughly up against a wall. He was on her in an instant, all probing tongue, hot mouth and greedy hands. He forced her skirt up, and her drawers down and was soon inside her.

Gwynnie tried to moan in all the requisite ways when in truth she most often found the whole ordeal disgusting. He roughly grabbed her right leg, wrapping it around his back as he pounded into her against the wall. He moved his face close to hers as he whispered into her ear.

"You don't seem to be enjoying this as much as your friend, Lucy."

She started, "Lucy 'arris?"

"Oh yes. Lucy was begging for it, and I gave it to her."

Pig. Men could be so crude.

"In fact, Lucy acted just as calm as you right before I tried to kill her."

Gwynnie's eyes widened in shock and horror as a strong hand clamped over her mouth. She struggled against him, but he grabbed both her wrists with his free hand and pinned them above her. He continued to thrust into her, laughing, enjoying his cruelty. She thrust her hips at him, trying desperately to get away, but it only served to make him more aroused and angry. He let her wrists go, but only for a moment. She saw the dagger, clear as day, before he plunged it mercilessly into her chest several times. His cold laugh was the last thing she ever heard.

……………………………………………………………………………

Lucy wondered when she hadn't seen Gwynnie for several days. Spyder seemed just as perplexed. When Lucy was scrubbing the downstairs floor, he had approached her, purposely kicking her bucket of water all over the floor so she'd have to start again.

"You ain't 'eard from Gwynnie?"

Lucy sat, her hands on her knees, her dress soaked. She dared not respond smartly to him for fear of being slapped.

"No. I thought she was on a call perhaps…"

"Not for two days!" He kicked the bucket to the wall and leaned down close to Lucy. She cringed and backed away, but he grabbed her by her pinned up bun and held her. She gasped and cried out as he shook her.

"Now you listen to me. If you's know where she is, you better tell Spyder, awright? Huh?" He shook her roughly and tears came out of her eyes as she felt the hairs on her head tearing at the roots.

"I would tell ya if I knew, I promise. I don't know where she is! I swear it!"

He shoved her roughly away.

"Better get some more water and scrub that floor, love. You're gonna 'ave lots'a gents tonight."

She muttered to herself, "lucky me," the tears still stinging her eyes. The pain in her head didn't compare to the pain she had felt the other day at Doctor Jekyll's. What had happened at the doctor's house. Why had he been so cruel all of a sudden? It was as if he was a different person entirely…


	6. Chapter six

Quite naturally, when Gwynnie had not returned for over two days, everyone at the Red Rat became anxious.

Several days after that her body was found in the Whitechapel district, on Lancaster street. The condition of the body left the authorities to assume it was the work of "The Ripper".

Jack the Ripper was why Lucy didn't solicit outdoors. It had been several months ago that he had first struck, murdering and surgically operating on ladies of the night. Thus far, Lucy had been lucky enough that she and all her acquaintances had evaded his sadism. Unfortunately now, she was left without what could be termed as her closest companion; Gwynnie.

The case was closed and the woman forgotten all too quickly.

Lucy had been depressed since the death of her friend, depressed even further still, for she did not have any contact with Henry Jekyll.

Jekyll, for his part, had decided to remain locked away from prying eyes. He treated his mansion as asylum; he did not leave it, not even to acquire medical supplies. He either sent his manservant Poole, or some other worker from his employ.

Emma Carew had grown worried; she knew her fiancé was a very private man, but this reclusive behaviour was certainly more extreme than she was accustomed to. He had refused to see her, sending messages instead to her house that he was not to be disturbed. Emma was accustomed to seeing letters such as these every so often, but the frequency and seemingly hasty nature in which they'd been written upset her greatly. Had he found another woman? Was he dismissing her?

She would go see him today, by force if necessary, and clear this matter. However, when she approached Jekyll manor and knocked on the great wood door, Poole informed her that Henry Jekyll had left for a fortnight. He then procured an envelope addressed to her and handed it to her.

"I'm sorry, miss….Doctor Jekyll was called away quite unexpectedly."

Emma's hands tore at the envelope. "Did he say what it was?"

"Yes, miss. A cousin, miss. A young boy, having the most horrible bout of pneumonia. He had to leave at once, but hoped you'd understand…"

"Of course." She was now holding the letter in her gloved hand. Her eyes scanned the page. 'Dearest Emma,' it read, 'I am afraid urgent family business has lead me to leave you today. I shall not be gone more than a fortnight. A young cousin of mine is having some difficulty recovering from pneumonia. I do hope you understand. Additionally, I know I have not been the most attentive fiancé of late. I implore your forgiveness for being such a wretched beast. I promise to take you for a whole day's worth of amusement upon my return. Yours eternally, Henry.'

She looked at Poole and smiled halfheartedly. Just like Henry. Always making excuses and promises he probably wouldn't keep. His work was important, of course, and she did not want to be the kind of woman that stands in the way of a man's progress, but really! They would have to engage in a discussion when he returned.

"Can I get you a carriage miss," Poole asked.

"Thank you, Mister Poole, but I shan't be needing one today. I am meeting my father for supper but a few blocks from here."

"Good day, Miss Carew. I will tell Doctor Jekyll you called."

"Poole! Is there any chance….might I ask you for a small favor of discretion?"

"Certainly, Miss Carew."

"Do not tell Henry I came by. I…I don't want it to seem as if I am keeping a log of his daily activities….I….just tell him the letter was delivered to me at my address?"

"Yes of course, you may rely on my discretion, ma'am."

"Thank you Poole. Good day."

"Good day, miss."

She smiled at the elderly man and turned, walking north from Harley Street to the Banks supper club to meet her father. She was not sure how to explain this to him. Her father had always cautioned her that Henry Jekyll was far too concerned for his work to be in a position to offer her all she deserved. It was a conversation she was not looking forward too.

Meanwhile, in Whitechapel, Lucy was busy peeling potatoes when Spyder burst into the kitchen.

"Why's you receiving letters?"

Lucy's eyes shot up. Letters? She had not received a letter in all her life.

"Letters?"

"Brought by a courier at that! Who's sending you letters, Miss Lucy?"

"I don't know!" She didn't. In fact, she had no idea who would be sending her a letter.

He approached her and grabbed her right forearm roughly, pulling her to him. "Well, then, ye better go an' see who it is! Don' wan'ta keep no delivery boy waitin'" With that, he pushed her in the direction of the kitchen door.

Spider was right behind her, making sure she moved to the front of the tavern. She dried her hands on the apron she was wearing.

A man, a man she'd seen before removed his hat as she approached.

"Miss Harris?"

Looking behind her at Spyder she replied, " who wants t'know?"

The man cleared his throat and extended a hand. "This is for you."

Lucy could not believe her eyes. A letter. A beautiful letter, all for her! It was the first thing she had ever received. She held it in her small hands before flipping it over to gently work at the envelope seal. She wanted to make sure not to damage it. She pulled out the folded letter, and slowly unfolded it.

The courier spoke, "It is for her eyes only, sir."

Spyder's face contorted into a nasty scowl. "She works for me, so I will see it as well."

The man spoke again. "The man who it is from frequents here with his friends quite often. He would be most displeased if you did not follow his instructions."

Spyder looked from her to the man, then back again. "Awright…you got two minutes…," then he turned and walked in the direction of the parlor.

"Pardon me, miss. Can you read?"

With an indignant slight of her chin she responded. "Yes, I can. Well, a little….but I can."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's awright." Her eyes scanned the page. 'D-e-a-r……Lucy', 'Lucy, that's me!' she thought to herself. 'I….h-a-v-e…' she looked at the man again. "I'm afraid I don't read as good as I thought."

"Would you allow me, miss?", he asked quietly. She nodded dejectedly.

"Dear Lucy," he began, "I have thought of our last encounter quite often of late, and I wish to apologize to you from the bottom of my heart. I have wronged you, been unkind to you, and treated you quite horribly. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I have a favor to ask of you. But I must ask it in person, my dear Lucy. Please, when you receive this, if you wish, come to my estate, and I will speak to you of my proposition," the man raised his eyebrows at this, no doubt imagining something else, "upon your arrival. Your friend, Henry Jekyll."

Lucy had been listening intently. She could not have been happier! What did he wish to speak to her about. Wait! She was mad at him, though. He had been cruel. But, perhaps there was a reason for it. In fact, looking back, the doctor had not even appeared to be his normal self. She looked up and realized the man had been staring at her, waiting for a response.

"Yes?", she looked at him quizzically.

"I…I have his carriage, if you wish to go."

She thought for a split second, then made up her mind. She could forgive him. She would find out why he had snapped, and she would forgive him. She had to, he was the only friend she had.

"I do…I must get my coat…"

"No, miss. You don't understand. Doctor Jekyll said he needed you immediately."

She looked at him strangely as he removed his own cloak and handed it to her.

A note of hesitation rang in her voice as she spoke. "Awright….."


	7. Chapter seven

The horses seemed to gallop towards Jekyll manor, for Lucy was jostled about inside the large carriage. What could he possibly be wanting from her?

There was only one thing she knew that she could give to a man; it lay between her legs. She had grown to believe it was the only thing she had to offer. Her self worth was the size of a mustard seed. Was that what Henry Jekyll wanted from her?

There was something about him which disquieted her. He did seem to have his own demons, but what bothered her was how she felt around him. When she was in Dr. Jekyll's company, she almost felt as if she was being courted. He treated her with such kindness, and did not ask anything in return. It was very foreign to her to not owe someone something. And there was something more. There was an attraction between them. She could tell he felt it too. They were both very drawn to the other, sexually, for whatever reason, but it was there. She could almost watch Henry's conscience displayed on his face when he kissed her. She could tell he wanted her, but also wanted to do the gentlemanly thing. He was conflicted, in that sense. Like two separate persons.

He was engaged, she knew that much. Could he need her to satiate his desires? Was that it? He couldn't touch his fiancé, but he could not give up the flesh?

She chided herself for thinking these thoughts, for deep down she somehow knew he was not calling on her for her womanly favours, but for something else. Perhaps she wanted him to have called her for those reasons, but she did not believe so.

The carriage came to an abrupt stop, and Jekyll's man reached out a hand for her, guiding her gently from the carriage. Lucy looked up at the massive structure again.

'I wonder what will happen inside this time…', she thought.

She had barely lifted the heavy knocker when she was again greeted by the face of his manservant. Poole was his name, she thought she remembered.

"Right this way, miss. Doctor Jekyll is urgently awaiting you."

The man had a quickness in his step which had not been present the other day. Lucy took note, and followed just as quickly. She was again led into the same study. As she crossed the threshold of the room, she suppressed a shiver. This is where Jekyll had assaulted her the other day. She did not have time to dwell on it, for she heard a voice from behind her.

"Lucy-," he spoke, in that deep voice she adored.

Lucy turned slowly, almost afraid that she would see him angry and cruel. Instead, his face looked tired, and perhaps a bit sad.

"Miss Lucy….do sit down."

Henry strode to the wheeled service table Poole must have brought earlier. "Tea," he asked.

Lucy smiled weakly. "Yes, please."

Henry set about to make the tea, adding extra sugar. "Lucy, first and foremost, I want to offer you my sincerest apologies for our last meeting. I want to explain-,"

"You don't 'ave to explain, 'enry. I'm used to it," she said, looking at the floor.

He continued. "No, that's just it, Lucy." He turned, deep in thought, as if he were trying to find words.

"Lucy, I have been conducting the most groundbreaking experiments lately, and have had to resort to using additional help."

She made a movement to speak but he held up a hand, silencing her.

"Please let me get through this; it is most difficult. I have tried to differentiate the good from the evil in a man, but I fear I have tampered with a force I cannot control."

He walked away from her, to the fireplace where he rested his hand on the mantel. "Edward Hyde, who gave you those bruises, he….he is a colleague of mine….a….partner of sorts."

Henry looked at her, trying to gauge her reaction.

"Lucy, I need someone here I can trust. I need someone to acquire certain medical supplies, and be a sort of laboratory assistant, if you will."

"What about Mr. Hyde?"

"That's just it, Lucy. He comes and goes of his own these days, and I need someone far more reliable. I am offering you sixty pence a week for your services. In addition, you will take your meals here, and you will board here. Please consider it quickly; I feel like I am losing precious time."

She thought about it, then spoke. "And what of Mr. Hyde? I have to tell ya, I don't wan'ta run into him ever again, Doctor Jekyll."

He considered her response, then spoke. "I wish I could promise you that, Lucy, but I cannot. I can try my best to keep him away from you. I promise to try the best I can."

"An' what of my duties? What exactly will those be?"

"Well, the most demanding would be the travel to and from town to obtain supplies; other than that, helping keep the laboratory clean and organized, and assisting me, when necessary in the experiments themselves."

He looked at her, then added, "they will be long days, I will not lie to you about that. But, it would perhaps afford you to pursue….other options in your life."

Her cheeks blushed as she looked at the floor. The silence was unbearably uncomfortable. He knew it. He knew she did what she did with all those men. She herself tried to forget a hundred times, but it never worked. She would always remember.

Henry spoke softly, as if reading her thoughts. "Lucy, I know that it wasn't your choice. I do not presume to judge you. I know you weren't granted a choice of your own."

He had understood. She felt almost….forgiven. He was not judging her. He knew that she didn't want to….all the time.

What she wanted to do was cry. She wanted to run into his arms and cry and tell him how she was forced. Tell him how she detested the men that lay between her legs. She wanted to sob and have him kiss her tears away. She wanted so much, and she feared she never would have it.

She also spoke, her voice no more than a whisper. "Thank you, Doctor Jekyll. I will accept your offer of employment, and start immediately."

She looked up at him, but he was beaming. He seemed to move about the room with a bounce in his step.

"Oh, Lucy, thank you so much! We will be a wonderful team, you and I! Oh, now you must go up to your room and get situated!"

"But, I have no clothes…I didn't bring nothin' with me."

He turned towards her. "Then, you shall buy some new clothes!"

She began to protest, but he held up his hand. "I insist, Lucy. Consider it a sign-on bonus!"

He laughed, and the corners of his eyes crinkled.

"Now, you must go, but please return for supper, we have much work to do this evening."

She turned, ready to run out the door and jump for joy. Remembering something, she turned back to him.

"Thank you, Doctor Jekyll. For everything."


	8. Chapter 8

Henry Jekyll was certainly right about one thing. Lucy was definitely earning every penny of her extraordinary salary. It was already half past ten, and Henry showed no signs of slowing down for the evening.

"The chromium, please Lucy. It is the red one."

Lucy used the back of her hand to brush an errant curl behind one ear, as she looked for the 'red' substance. She would have to get used to all these chemicals and their names if this was to be successful. She already feared she had disappointed the doctor, as it seemed he had to slow his pace to explain things to her.

Her eyes finally lit on the requested test tube, and she took it in her gloved palm and carefully placed it into the doctor's outstretched hand.

"Thank you, Lucy."

He set the small vial in its holder as he placed his safety glasses back over his eyes.

"Glasses, Lucy."

She did the same.

"Now, when I add this, there will be a very small….I suppose explosion is the best word….nothing dangerous, but you will see a small smoky fume exit the vial."

She nodded, and as Jekyll picked up the vial, she held her breath. With a flick of his wrist, the red liquid had joined the other, and it did indeed fume. It also bubbled.

Jekyll pulled off his goggles, and started laughing. Lucy cried out, clapping her hands together. Evidently their day of toil was not spent in vain. He placed the tube back in its holder as he continued with his joy. Lucy took a step into him, and he wrapped her in a hug. They faced each other, both excited with their discovery.

As Lucy stared into Henry's face, she noticed his features harden. It was one of the looks she loved the most. It was as if his face turned from everyday, to suddenly serious; tight with arousal. His hand gently brushed her jaw. She closed her eyes and let out a small sigh.

It was then that the heavy laboratory door opened and Poole called down, "Doctor Jekyll….you wished me to fetch you at eleven o'clock?"

"Yes, Poole!", Jekyll cried up the stairs, tearing himself from Lucy. Their moment was lost, but still she smiled, for she had not seen him so excited.

"Poole…..my experiment is a success!" Henry called back up the stairs.

Poole seemed to hesitate for a moment, before responding. Obviously, he was rather uninterested in the whole process and thought Henry's time would be better spent with brandy and cigars, but he responded, "….wonderful, sir."

Henry called back, "We'll be right up."

He turned to Lucy. He walked over to her, his face still glowing. "Well, that's it then. I suppose I shall need to release you for the evening."

Lucy nodded, smiling back at him, and started to undo the ties of her lab apron.

"I usually start at six in the morning; however, based on this great success, I believe we shall both sleep in and meet at nine."

She nodded again, still fumbling behind her with the ties. She felt warm breath behind her neck, and heard his low voice, "Lucy, let me help you."

She closed her eyes and her head tilted back, unconsciously. His breath sent warm prickles down her spine. She knew he had not meant his voice to sound seductive, yet it did all the same. How was this to work, then? How could they work together, and avoid these situations?

Henry regretted striding to her side the moment his hands started working the laces. He saw her head gently tilt his way, and her hands clench. He had not meant his assistance as a sexual thing. Being so close to her made him able to smell her. She wore no perfume, and she had come from the tavern earlier that day. Yet she did not smell of ale or smoke, yet her smell lingered. It was the most wonderful thing he had ever breathed in, and he found himself struggling to unlace the simple apron. The sounds of rain pelting the roof somewhere far above became all too apparent, as it also became apparent that they made no noise whatsoever.

Silently willing his hands to work again, Henry resumed working at the knot, finally succeeding, and distancing himself from Lucy, as he stepped back.

When she turned around…..no…..could it be a sense of embarrassment he detected?

Her cheeks were flushed and her lips were parted. She immediately averted her eyes. "Well…..I…..thank you, Doctor Jekyll. I….I shall retire now…."

Her eyes met his gaze for a moment, and she could tell he wanted nothing more than to come up the stairs with her and find solace in her heated limbs. Would he use her quickly, or would he be a talented lover? Would he wish to bring her pleasure as well as please himself?

A thousand unwanted thoughts raced through her mind. Should she be giving herself to him? He had done so much for her, yet he had not asked for it. Should she be offering?

Lucy did not have to make any decisions, for it was Jekyll who broke the gaze, when he said, "I wonder if the rain will be as horrible tomorrow?"

He looked back at her, and she spoke, stammering, "I don't really know. I suppose there is always rain."

Sometimes she wished her mouth was wired shut, for she said the most ridiculous, unintelligent things.

Jekyll looked at her again, and smiled gently. "You did very well today. You have kept up with me more than any man."

Lucy's brows knitted together. "I thought I was much too slow. It seemed I was breaking your pace."

Jekyll's face then took on a look of confusion. "Not at all, Lucy. I was quite impressed how well you kept pace. It allowed me to work at a much better clip. You should be proud, we accomplished quite a lot today."

She smiled at him, smugly satisfied with herself.

"Now get some rest, and I shall see you at breakfast time."

She smiled as she turned to climb the stairs that led to Jekyll Manor.


	9. Chapter 9

And so they continued their experiments for nearly a fortnight, and thinly veiled their mutual attraction while doing so. The constant rain had forced them both into a rather reclusive existence; neither of them rarely left Jekyll Manor. Lucy spent what small amounts of free time she had in Doctor Jekyll's enormous library, trying desperately to read his books. Edward Hyde, for his part, had not reappeared to her, although she had, on occasion, heard crashing noises coming from the laboratory. She was unsure if it had been him, or Doctor Jekyll, in a frustrated state. He was never satisfied where he was; he always needed to be doing more. Another cure for something, more research on his latest HJ9, or whatever it was….the man held himself to a ridiculous standard. It was a wonder that Miss Carew was marrying him.

Lucy had not yet met the famed Miss Carew, and wondered if she would at all. Henry rarely spoke of her, but she attributed that to his determination in his experiments, nothing more. When he did speak of her, it was with great fondness. Henry was quite private about his personal matters, and Lucy afforded him that luxury. And so, they fell into a routine of sorts; trying to simply remain working partners, with nothing emotionally passing between them. Lucy felt his attraction towards her now and again, but for the most part, they were both succeeding in concealing their desires. And how she desired him. Sometimes she would watch him when she thought he wasn't looking. She would stare at his broad expanse of shoulders, the sinewy arms. She wondered what it would feel like to be pressed beneath him as he filled her with himself. Lucy caught him doing the same thing every so often. He would watch her as she walked out of the laboratory, or his eyes would drift to the subtle rise and fall of her chest. Yet neither made a move, and for good reason. Lucy was, without a doubt, the best lab assistant he had ever had, and he did not wish to jeopardize that, nor his relationship with his fiancée. And Lucy did not wish to jeopardize her newfound career and financial freedom. So they worked and toiled endlessly, and for what, Lucy did not yet know.

It was a Friday night, a quarter to midnight and Lucy could not sleep. She crawled out of bed to head downstairs and sit and try to read by the fire. The study was perhaps her favorite room in the whole house. It was cozy, always warm, and decorated in the richest burgundies and olives—it was an intimidatingly masculine room, yet somehow inviting.

Lucy walked to the fireplace, gently stoking the flames with the poker before adding another log. Then she moved to the burgundy armchair and sat, lifting her feet upon the footrest. Reaching out to the table at her left, she picked up the copy of Dante's inferno which she had left there earlier. She found that while she could not read fluently, she could sound out the words, a letter at a time, and in doing so, Lucy discovered she actually knew more than she thought. Once she knew what a word looked like, she stored it in the back of her memory, and so, was working on building her vocabulary.

She was about a paragraph in when she heard someone clear their throat.

"Miss Lucy…what on earth are you doing awake at this hour?"

She was faced away from him, and could not see because of the chair, but she recognized Henry's voice immediately. She smiled and turned, glancing around the sides of the chair.

"I couldn't sleep. I suppose I could ask you the same question," she spoke before turning back to her book, amused.

"I couldn't sleep either." With that, Henry strode to her. Lucy moved her feet and Henry sat atop the footstool.

"Do you realize how close we are to discovering what I need to know?" His face was excited, but slowly faded as he continued, "…yet how far away I am from discovering what exactly that it is?"

Henry sighed and turned, resting his elbows on his knees, and kneading the skin at his temple.

Lucy placed the book in her lap, and said to him gently. "'enry….you have come so far. You mustn't always rest on what you perceive as failures. You must give yourself more credit where credit is due."

His hands went to his mouth in a praying position as he thought on her words. "I know you are right, Lucy. My fear is that if I allow myself to share in little triumphs, I might always rest there, instead of continuing to venture forward."

She smiled gently. "I understand, but you must stop thinking of yourself so negatively. Surely it isn't good….for either your work or your person."

His eyes drifted to the table, where he had a small portrait of Emma on display. His hands went to his eyes as he suppressed a yawn. "I have not been very kind to my fiancée. I haven't seen her in nearly a month. She could have any man in London, and she chooses me. I do not deserve such affections."

Lucy regarded the tiny portrait. There was no denying Emma Carew was indeed a beauty. Fine golden hair piled atop her head, and what appeared to be piercing blue eyes, staring back from the picture. The very portrait of propriety and fashion, no doubt.

"Sir, I—I do not presume to know about your relationship, but I am certain she understands about your work."

He let out a rueful chuckle. "Yes, well….I think the idea of me retaining a female lab assistant upset her greatly. She has been wonderful though. She is excited that you are as skilled as you are."

"Why would she think about me, sir?"

"I tell her in my letters. At first, she was, I'm afraid to say, quite jealous, but she has taken an active interest in finding out about you. Perhaps some is jealousy still, that you are here, all this time with me, and she is not, but I do believe she is intrigued that a woman should participate in science and has such a natural affinity for it."

Lucy was genuinely flattered. Emma was jealous of her? Did she know what she used to have as a profession?

"'enry….did you tell her how we met? How I came to work 'ere?"

He looked at Lucy with tired eyes. "No, and I'd prefer if she didn't know….I……," he let out a sigh. "Lucy….I don't want her to know that I've ever been a guest at such an establishment, but I'm sure you understand there are certain……needs that I have as a man….."

Lucy tried to swallow, but couldn't. She prayed to God he stopped talking along the tangent he was currently on.

"….she can't fulfill those needs, and I wouldn't want her to…..of course, if she were my wife…..it would be different. But, as it is…."

His voice drifted off as his eyes lit upon her face. She was regarding him simply. It seemed to dawn on him then. He needed…..he had been so frustrated lately that he needed……release. Perhaps Lucy could provide it for him?

She watched his emotions battle across his face, fully aware of what was going on inside his head. He sighed again, and his gaze drifted to the book at her lap.

"Dante's inferno? I thought you couldn't read well?"

She smiled weakly, trying to diffuse the situation. "I can't. I'm tryin' to learn, so I can be of greater assistance to you."

He smiled back at her, "Lucy, you are invaluable to me, you must know that by now."

She looked down at the book in her lap, not believing her ears. She was invaluable to him, and she did not want to jeopardize their working relationship. His gaze on the book again, he slowly reached out and took one of her tiny hands in his. The tension in his body was pounding his head. He brought it to his knee and up towards his face, very slowly.

"Lucy-," he whispered as his lips found and gently brushed over the pale knuckles.

She was frozen in place. Could they do this? Could they join tonight, and go about their business tomorrow as if nothing had occurred? Did she want to?

"Lucy-," he said again, his voice tight as his tongue gently flicked across her knuckles.

Her eyes closed as he gently kissed the top of her hand, her palm, the underside of it. Her breath hitched and she began clenching and unclenching her free hand in her lap.

Henry did not know what he was doing, save that this awful tension and frustration needed to be flushed from his system. He let her hand drop and leaned in, picking the book out of her lap and placing on the end table next to them. He dropped his hand to her thigh, covered in layers of nightdress, and leaned in to her lips.

She felt fire the moment his lips met her own. He brought his other hand to her cheek, cupping it, drawing her close against his mouth. It was she who parted her lips first, joined her tongue to his, increased the pressure and intensity. He tore his lips away from her, only to bring them to the heated skin at the base of her neck. She cried out as he began to lavish his attentions there. Her hands quickly went to his shirt, pulling it out of his trousers so she could run her hands underneath, over the bare skin of his back. Then he began to moan. Her mouth went to his Adam's apple, then lower to his collarbone. She was certainly skilled. His mouth sought hers out again, and then his hands reached under her, lifting her and carrying her to the chaise not ten feet away.


	10. Chapter 10

Lucy's head rolled to the side as her eyes opened. Had it been a dream? But no, she remembered the previous evening's events all too well. Doctor Jekyll had indeed lifted her and carried her to the chaise with every intention of posession, but he had stopped. It was only later that Lucy had realized the portrait of Emma had been knocked to the floor somehow in the heat of the moment. She remembered the look of pain and regret on Henry's face as he lovingly bent to pick up the tiny picture, and then dismissed her. It would not be a good morning.

Poole had laid out tea and biscuits for breakfast, which Lucy thankfully ate. Making sure she was dusted fully of crumbs, she set out to the lab. She had quite a few tasks of classification that she could embark upon without the good doctor's help. Perhaps she could even get a start on the coming week's work.

As her fingers deftly set about the task of rearranging and cataloguing the different vials, her thoughts drifted to the previous evening. She was glad, in a way, that nothing else had happened between them. She was happy. She was trying to keep her new occupation.

Doctor Jekyll entered the lab at half past nine; much later than usual. He was dressed, but his hair seemed unkempt, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He mumbled a "good morning", then moved towards his journal.

"Morning, Doctor Jekyll." Lucy replied, making sure to keep her head down and her tone light.

The doctor hunched over his journal, scribbling a few notes here and there, and she watched him, his shoulder bunched. He ran a hand through his hair, and the pen in his other hand stilled. He did not turn to her, but he spoke directly.

"Lucy…..I apologize for my behaviour last evening. I….well I'm hoping we can leave it at that and not discuss it further."

Lucy nodded even though his back was to her. "I ….accept your apology, although…..I can't say that you were the sole cause of…..the evening's events…..I…."

"Lucy, please-" he started, his voice straining.

"Doctor…I need you to know that working here has changed my life. I do not want to lose this."

He turned towards her, and she nearly gasped. His whole demeanor was different; he was somehow so sad.

"I see, then. The employment is what is of worth to you-"

"If I may speak frankly sir…"

He raised his eyebrows and looked at her, his hands behind him on the table. "Of course, Miss Lucy, I wouldn't want anything else."

"I…..have not known kindness like yours…..I would be lying if I said employment was the only reason I wanted to stay……"

Jekyll seemed discomforted at this statement, so she continued. "I think I said too much….please, sir. I don't want to go back to where I was."

"I need to work on HJ7.…" his voice trailed off and he turned to the desk, gripping the edges with his hands.

"'enry", she spoke softly.

He turned towards her abruptly, and began speaking, almost harshly. "Lucy I know you work for me, and I know I have helped you in the past, but all I can think of in our times together has nothing whatsoever to do with this damn lab!"

She took a step back, recognizing the animalistic tone of his voice.

"I have a fiance that I never see, parties I never attend, a life I never try to have, and it's always been that way. Now that you are here, it almost validates my decisions."

He walked around the back of his examining table, putting distance between them and spread his hands wide, almost as if to steady himself. He looked right into her face and spoke directly. "Lucy I love Emma, but I cannot tear my mind from you."

Her hands stilled over the vials, and she brought them slowly to the table. She let out a small laugh that broke on a sigh as her brows knitted together. How she had longed to hear something of this nature from Henry.

'I cannot tear my mind from you.' It echoed in her head, and it was the most lovely thing she had ever heard.

With the table still between them, she replied slowly, "you must know what I feel. You have to."

He looked at her over the table, his face serious, and tight. "I do."


	11. Chapter 11

Again, the sound of rain was all that could be heard. Lucy could scarcely believe the words he had uttered. She lowered her eyes quickly. Jekyll, his hands still supporting his weight on the table, lowered his head.

Lucy walked slowly to his side. With each step, the clack-clack-clack of her shoes rang out on the hard floor. Jekyll's head was still down when she gingerly reached a hand out to touch his cheek. Her breath left her body in a soft whoosh. The skin at his cheek was so smooth and soft, and she marveled at the texture as her fingers softly stroked his skin. She did not notice his hands grip the table edges tightly.

"Lucy, please stop." He said between clenched teeth. Lucy did not stop, instead, she now caressed his face lovingly, adding her other hand.

Henry slowly turned his face to hers, and stood, facing her, mere inches from her face. As she reached for him, he gently grasped both wrists before her fingers made it to his face.

"Lucy… I must dress for the Wickersham's party. I have to make an appearance."

Lucy nodded. He had told her this several times this past week. Still he gripped her wrists. A moment passed between them as they stared at each other. Lucy's eyes smoldered, deliberately seducing him with her gaze. He slowly lowered her arms, still holding the wrists and leaned in to her lips.

His lips were warm, gentle yet firm. He was hungry for her, and she was for him, too. Having heard that he could not help but think of her; it was all she could do to not tear his clothes off and melt into him, right there on the cool floor of his lab.

"Lucy…". He uttered her name, but it was no more than a whisper. Her mouth found his earlobe, his neck, and he let out an animalistic cry. With a swift movement, he knocked all his notebooks to the floor, and then, his hands about her small waist, lifted her onto his laboratory table.

His hands went to her back, as she pulled him to her. Her legs, which dangled over the sides of the table wrapped around his strong back, as her mouth sought out his. Their kissing became feverish, heated, and in an instant, he was above her, pressing her into the table with his weight.

There was no room for regret. No space in his head for any other thoughts, save Lucy. It was as if in this moment he had been reborn. Finally, a person in the world who was his emotional, spiritual, and physical counterpart. His mouth found hers again, as she let out a small whimper, and then they were moving towards ecstasy, and the HJ7 was suddenly the farthest thing from his mind. The rain continued, and Henry Jekyll was for a moment, at peace.


	12. Chapter 12

It hadn't been awkward. Not at all. There was no fumbling, no muttering of apologies; nothing of the sort. In fact, exactly the opposite. It had been wonderful, really.

Lucy's mind flashed to several hours ago; to Henry gently placing a kiss on the inside of her wrist. Of his hands, seeking hers and interlacing them together as they became one. Of her own hands, gently keeping his hair out of his face as they kissed deeply, completely joined. She smiled, and turned, her head on its pillow as she watched the storm outside.

Such an ugly evening to have to go out. Henry had to go to the party, as was his social obligation, but Lucy could tell he did not want to leave. The fact that his fiancée would be there upset her as well. She could lie to herself and him as well and say that it didn't matter, but it did. Lucy wanted to own Henry Jekyll, mind, body, and soul, and this thought was perhaps what disturbed her the most. She knew in the back of her mind that it could never happen.

With a sigh, she rolled onto her other side, away from the window. Lucy felt awakened, in a way. She was very in tune with her body. How her lips were chapped from his kisses, and how she was pleasantly sore from their encounter. She remembered the feel of his body, the intoxicating smell where his hair met the base of his neck…

'Enough!', she thought to herself. 'It's over and done'. Like so many men before, she was sure it was over. How would it be for Henry the next day? How would it be as they tried to work together?

So many questions raced through her mind, and her eyes were too tired to try and read some more. Lucy lay awake, listening to the rain until her tiredness overcame her, and she finally drifted into a deep sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

"Henry!"

A voice rang out, one that Jekyll recognized as his fiancee's.

"Henry!"

Emma Carew dashed to her fiance's side, her blue eyes shining.

"I'm so glad you were able to make it this evening. Mrs. Wickersham has claimed my ear for almost an hour now, and I must say, the details of her spice garden are becoming quite tiresome."

Emma looked at Henry, wondering why he hadn't kissed her or pulled her to him. It was just a moment, and she assumed it had something to do with his work day.

"Darling-", he started, as Emma confidently wrapped his arms about her waist.

"Was it that bad, today?," she asked, her brow furrowing in empathy.

_'Was it that bad today_?'...Henry couldn't shake the sense memory of Lucy's nails pressing gently yet firmly across his back as he lie atop her on his laboratory table. Of her lips, parted, and her flushed face as they moved together.

Henry's head snapped back to reality as he mustered a contrived smile. "No, dearest...I...it was just a long day."

Emma smiled back at him and leaned her head against his chest. "And I suppose that asking for a kiss will just make it worse."

His hand went to her back, as her comment made him chuckle. He gently moved her so he could plant the obligatory kiss on her tender lips.

"Henry...", she started

_'Henry'..._

And there was Lucy again, in his mind, not more than several hours ago. This was not right. The worst thing about the entire situation was that he knew he appeared distracted, and he didn't want that to happen. He hadn't seen Emma in quite some time, and now she was getting half a fiance. It was dishonest. He hated himself for what he did, but he could not bring himself to hate the act itself.

"Henry...my father has been asking for you all evening."

And with that, Emma took his strong hand in her own and guided him inside. The whirl of women in their gowns, the waltz playing in three-quarter time, the same faces he saw at every party; it all seemed too much. Henry adjusted his neck tie.

"Ah, Henry, dear boy. So nice to _finally_ see you," Sir Danvers stated, stressing the _finally_ a bit to obviously.

"Sir Danvers...it has been too long."

"Father, leave poor Henry alone. He has been working nonstop on his formula."

"Any progress?"

Henry looked at Sir Danvers Carew. He most certainly had made progress, but he didn't quite feel like explaining all of it at the moment. He needed a drink of some sort, to help him breathe in this sea of upper class boredom.

"Sir Danvers, if I might ask you to point me in the direction of refreshments-"

"Henry, you don't look well. Are you alright, dear boy," Sir Danvers started, noticing the sweat beginning to bead Henry's brow.

"Henry-," Emma started, suddenly grabbing his forearm. "Darling-,"

"Emma, dear I am fine. I just need a bit of fresh air. Would you consider accompanying me?"

"Of course, darling."

"Wait here for me," he started, wandering off in search of the purported drinks. A brandy for him, and champagne for Emma.

Henry wandered off to the balcony, only to be greeted with the worried face of his fiancee.

"Henry...you seem...distracted," she said, the light falling from her eyes.

He let out a low sigh. "Emma, I'm so sorry."

"Whatever for?"

"I detest that I've seen you one day this month. I detest that when I see you I am both too tired and too distracted to give you my full attention. Most of all, I hate that you are so understanding of this half a fiance who plagues you."

Emma smiled at him, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She approached him, putting her hand gently on his back.

"Henry...I knew what it was I was getting when I first agreed to marry you. I understand your work is important. I only ask...that you not forget there are...certain people...who care greatly for you. Who will be waiting for you, always."

Her face was inches from his now. He should have told her, right then and there. He should have called it off. Instead, he pulled her face to his and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

"Henry...you should get some rest. I will make your pardons."

He opened his mouth to protest, but she put up a hand.

"I insist, darling. I shall call on you later in the week; perhaps we might lunch?"

He nodded his head, mustering a smile.

"Emma, I would love nothing more."

She approached him, smiling, and kissed him once more, pulling him close to whisper a single word in his ear: "always."

As she left, he brought the brandy to his lips, throwing it back in a single motion. Regarding the full champagne glass he said to himself, "once more unto the breach, dear friends...once more," and finished that as well.

His head felt slightly but pleasantly lighter as he wandered out to find his driver and go home.


	14. Chapter 14

Factoring into account the rain and mud, it took Henry Jekyll nearly an hour to make it back to the Manor. He knew exactly what he would do when he got there. He would get horribly, ridiculously drunk, pray that Edward Hyde didn't make an appearance, and go to bed.

He had lied. He had lied to Emma. Emma, who had stood by him consistently for years. Emma, who had defended him to her father, defended him to anyone who would listen. She was undying in her love and support. And he had gone and done this…

_This…_

Lucy. Why had she been thrown into his life?

Sitting in the carriage, he bent forward until his elbows rested on his knees. He brought his hands to the temples and began to knead the throbbing flesh he found there.

_Lucy._

Who represented every base desire, every sinful urge he'd ever had. He had betrayed Emma. She would be destroyed if she found out. Perhaps he would just keep it to himself. He had betrayed one who was saving herself for him with this….this….prostitute!

Yet Lucy did not really figure into the 'common prostitute' category. No, as a lab assistant, she was invaluable to him. It wasn't exactly fair to her either. Of course she probably wasn't expecting anything from him, but he felt as if he'd wronged Lucy. He had taken someone who trusted them, and twisted their trust into something solely for him. He had betrayed Lucy as well; really, he had.

_What to do?_

He pondered this very thing as he felt the jostling of the carriage, signaling their arrival.

…………………………………………………………………..

Half an hour later, Henry Jekyll sat in front of his fire, brandy in hand. It was his fifth. He had been downing the amber liquid as if it were candy. It did much to still the pounding in his head, but little to resolve any of the issues at hand.

_And yet…_

All he wanted to do in his mind was to go upstairs. Not to his room, but to hers. To burst through the door and claim her in an instant. To make her his in every sense of the word. To hear her scream his name, and to provide him relief from the thoughts which clouded his tired mind.

Two more glasses, and he decided he would.


	15. Chapter 15

Lucy awoke with a start to a sudden pounding on her door. Willing her eyes to open, she grabbed her wrapper from the sitting chair next to her bed, pulled it around her lithe body, and strode to the door.

"Lucy, please open the door," Henry Jekyll said, his low voice booming.

Turning the lock, Lucy grabbed the handle, flinging the door open. Whatever he wanted, it sounded important.

"'enry," she started, but was immediately silenced by his lips upon her own. Lucy smelled the alcohol.

"You been drinkin'?" she pulled back and asked him.

"Yes, my dear Lucy," he replied, placing his hand on the side of her face, gently pulling her to him. "Are you displeased, love?" he asked, his mouth meeting hers again.

"No," she spoke between kisses. "I…suppose…I was wondering why you would start drinking so heavily."

He ignored her, kissing her until she felt her knees weaken. She gently placed her hands on top of his, and pulled them from her face.

"I'd really like to know."

Henry looked at her, dropped his hands drunkenly, sighed, and turned from her, running his hands through his hair as he did when worried.

"I suppose it is because I was so completely uncomfortable this evening at the party."

"But why-"

"I lied to Emma."

Lucy opened her mouth to ask another question, but Henry held up a hand and kept speaking.

"I didn't tell her about you and I. Every moment with her was torture and it isn't fair to her. " He looked at her. "It isn't fair to you. I…..,," his voice trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

"I couldn't help remembering. You and I….earlier…."

"I remember," Lucy said, her eyes locking on his. She licked her lips and the silence once again, enveloped them both.

"Damn it," he started, "damn it all to hell!", and he turned on his heel, quickly and strode out of her room.

Lucy didn't know what to do. Although she had much experience with drunken members of the opposite sex, Henry wasn't your run of the mill drunk. This whole ordeal must be troubling him. She wanted to go to him, comfort him, but she refused to lay with him in his current state. Of course, she wanted to, but that would seal her fate surely. To lay with Henry Jekyll one time….well, it could be brushed off as heat of the moment. To do so again….

Lucy sighed and rested her head on the side of her open door, as she stared off into the hallway outside her door. To do so again would surely jeopardize her employment with Dr. Jekyll. He would assume she would become jealous, unable to work with him, or any number of things. As it was, she was already headed in that direction. She hated that she had to keep reminding herself of her position. Had she been born differently she would have had options like these.

'Damn it all to hell,' she echoed in her head, pulled her wrapper tightly around herself, and walked to the library. If he was there she would speak with him, if not, she would read until she felt tired.

Each creaking floorboard betrayed her presence to the rest of the household, had anyone been awake.

The fire was still going, the doors to the library drawn open wide. Henry was there, sitting in the large olive chair by the fireplace, reading over a medical text.

"'enry?" she spoke, to let him know she was in the room.

"I'm sorry Lucy." He stated, almost matter-of-factly.

"I figured….you always told me if I needed a friend…"

"I remember."

"Well despite…everything, " her voice faltered for a moment as her tongue reached out to wet her dry lips, " I want to be a friend to you. It is the least I can do."

Henry put his head in one hand, and reached the other out for her.

"Dear Lucy. You have no idea how much you mean to me…"

"Tonight, 'enry, we will just talk as friends."

She sat on the ottoman, facing him, gently reaching for and brushing his hair from his face. Henry grabbed her hand and kissed it several times, running it down his cheek.

"Lucy….all these experiments are taking their toll. I feel so utterly….lost."

And Lucy sat and listened. Henry told her about his father's death spurring him on to these experiments, and all that he was uncovering. Difficult to believe at times, but still she listened. And when Henry finally fell asleep in the massive chair, it was she who found a blanket and covered him before turning up the stairs to sleep herself.


	16. Chapter 16

Henry Jekyll awoke with a start. He could feel _him_. He who represented every inch of depravity in mankind, every base, lewd, desire. And he was surfacing again. Jekyll doubled over in pain, knocking over the ottoman in the process. It felt almost as if his flesh was melting off his body. He screamed in pain, rushing for the doors of the library, willing himself to get out of the mansion before Edward Hyde surfaced.

Down the hall he moved, running, as if possessed by the devil himself. Faster and faster he ran, not pausing even for a jacket, he flung himself out the front door and hurried to get as far away as possible before there was no Henry Jekyll.

………

Lucy Harris heard Henry screaming, and went to grab her dressing gown. Of course, by the time she'd dressed and went downstairs, there was no sign of the good doctor. He had cautioned her of the painful side effects of his experiments, and she had warned him about testing things on himself, but she was sure he was still using himself as a test subject.

She returned from her exploration of the downstairs rooms, and moved to the library. Selecting her usual tome, she sat on the chair where she'd tucked Henry in for the night. Adjusting her legs, she flipped open to where she'd left off, and continued reading, trying to distract herself from the worry.

……….

Emma Carew sat straight up in bed, drenched in sweat. Her heart pounded in her chest. She had just dreamed that Henry had been killed by some man, as they walked down the street. She remembered vividly cradling his body in her arms as blood seeped from the wounds in his open chest.

She glanced at her fingers. No blood. Nothing. Just a dream, just a dream. Something was wrong. She wouldn't have dreamt it if something wasn't the matter with Henry. Without a moment's hesitation, Emma moved to get dressed. She would see him directly, make sure everything was all right.

Less than half an hour later, Emma arrived at Jekyll Manor. Her horseman had not been thrilled at the prospect of rising so early, but had obliged nonetheless.

As she ran to the heavy knocker, her mind raced. Any number of things could be wrong. Then again, nothing could be amiss either. She knocked, and waited. Harder, this time, and James, Henry's nighttime butler, opened the door.

"Miss Carew-" he started, obviously surprised by her unkempt appearance.

"James, I must speak with Henry. Something is wrong," she said, brushing past him inside.

"Miss…Doctor Jekyll is not here," he said, as she turned to face him.

"Not here?," she questioned, worry ringing in her voice.

"Yes miss. He left quite abruptly."

"Have you any idea where he was going, James?"

James nodded his head, "I'm sorry miss….Doctor Jekyll moved too fast…"

"It's alright, James." Emma managed a weak smile. Her hand went to her forehead.

"If I might trouble you for some tea," her voice trailed off.

"No trouble at all, miss. Would you like to wait in the study?" he asked.

"Yes. I think I shall. You needn't worry – I know the way."

"Very good, miss."

"Oh, and James?" she started.

"Yes, miss?"

"Might I speak with his assistant? Miss Harris?"

James nodded, "I believe she is in the study, miss," and went on his way to the kitchen.

'So I will finally meet the famed Miss Harris," Emma thought, with a tiny twinge of jealousy.

As she walked into the study, she saw her. Not old and ugly at all, but a beautiful woman with raven hair, sitting by the fire, her dressing gown and wrapper tied tightly around her.

Emma cleared her throat.

Lucy, noting this, turned, and was quite surprised when she came face to face with Emma Carew. Her heart was in her mouth for a second, and with every ounce of courage and etiquette she possessed, she rose and walked over to Emma. The woman's blue eyes flashed as they regarded her up and down.

"Do forgive me, Miss Carew. I was not dressed for company. I'm Lucy Harris," she said, extending her hand.

Emma's frown softened at the edges.

"I recognize you from your picture."

Emma's mouth stayed in a straight line.

Lucy tried once more. "I figured it must be you, as Doctor Jekyll speaks of you so frequently." It was a lie, but it had the desired effect, for at this, Emma did smile.

"Miss…Harris?" she said, taking her hand. "Now it is my turn to apologize…I hadn't expected someone quite so….young."

"Oh," Lucy said, completely unsure of what to say. Her mind flashed to Henry kissing the palm of her hand earlier that evening. "I….well….I've been interested in chemistry for quite some time. I heard of Doctor Jekyll's quite extraordinary work, and I wanted to study with the finest mind in England."

"That he is," Emma said, still sizing the other girl up.

Lucy could not believe how beautiful she was. Even worried and tired as she obviously was, she had such a natural grace and elegance about her. Her perfectly formed features and light complexion made Lucy slightly jealous.

Emma, in turn, was fairly envious of Lucy as well. Gorgeous locks of wavy hair fell way past her shoulders, and her dark eyes seemed as if someone could get lost in them.

"Henry….I…well the reason I'm here is because I just had the most awful feeling that something was wrong."

Lucy looked at her and spoke slowly, careful to think everything out. "I heard noises coming from downstairs, but by the time I arrived, he was already gone."

"I see," Emma said, still looking at Lucy.

Just then James entered, with tea.

"Sugar and cream, miss?," he asked Emma.

"Both, yes, thank you, James."

James raised his eyebrows at Lucy and she nodded. The last thing she needed was tea to keep her up even longer.

Emma took her tea and sat on the chaise. That chaise. The chaise that Henry had carried her onto. The same place he had pressed her down underneath him, as they prepared to come together. She shook her head.

"Are you alright, Miss Harris," Emma asked, eyeing her cautiously.

"I'm sorry, I'm just very tired. Hen….Doctor Jekyll keeps me quite busy."

"I imagine he does," she said, not noting the subtle undertones, and pretending not to notice that this woman called him 'Henry'.

'Please don't see', Lucy thought to herself. 'Please don't see how much I want him, and hate you, but don't want to hate you…'

"Miss Harris," she started, placing her cup on the saucer, and this on the table. "May I be direct with you?"

Oh dear God. This was it.

"Please, you must call me Lucy."

"Lucy," Emma started, rising from her chair, turning her back to the other woman as she studied her own picture on the table. "Lucy, has Henry been acting strangely at all? I haven't seen him in almost a month, and I….well…..as you can imagine, I would long for some time with my fiancée."

Lucy swallowed and spoke slowly. "Miss Carew-"

"Emma. Please"

Lucy started again. "Emma…I do know that the stresses of Doctor Jekyll's work have taken their toll on his person. He is quite distant and often looks unkempt. Perhaps it is because of his appearance he wishes not to see you? Quite honestly, his eyes alight when he speaks of you and it is with great regret that he toils so endlessly."

Emma looked at the woman, quizzically. Had she caught a trace of cockney accent? She dismissed this as she remarked on her last sentence. "His eyes….when he speaks of me?"

"Yes, they light." Lucy lied.

Emma smiled, glancing down at her portrait once more.

"Henry should be here soon." Lucy said, catching herself only after addressing Doctor Jekyll as Henry.

Emma looked at her, and it seemed the color drained from her face.

Just then they heard the knock at the door, and James' worried voice exclaiming, "Doctor Jekyll!!"


	17. Chapter 17

Henry Jekyll stumbled into the study, his arm around James' shoulders, his jacket torn, his shirt bloody.

"James, I need my kit, right away!," he exclaimed.

Both Emma and Lucy rushed to take Henry from James and set him on the settee.

"Good Lord, Henry….what has happened?!!" Emma exclaimed.

Lucy chose not to spoke but helped adjust him on the settee.

"Henry….darling!!," Emma's voice trailed off as he pressed her worried hands to his knees.

"I'm fine my love, please, I need to attend to my wounds. I was walking to the alchemist for a final ingredient when a man came out of nowhere. When I refused to give him the money I had, he struck." Henry touched his shoulder, wincing in pain.

"Is it deep?", Lucy asked, worried senseless.

"Emma….Miss Harris…" he nodded to each in turn, careful to not say 'Lucy',

"I need you both to leave me alone with James. He will assist me from here. I'll be fine."

Emma stood, her eyes flashing. "I'm not leaving you, Henry. I knew something was wrong."

"Just for the moment, dearest," he said, and as he moved his shoulder, he cried out in pain.

Lucy left the room first, with Emma close behind.

Inside the study, Henry stripped off his jacket, and James helped with the shirt.

"Sir, these wounds are not very deep. I do not know of science as you, but I believe if we can stop the bleeding, a bandage may be all that's required."

Henry smiled weakly. "Thank you James. I will need some linens…something that can be torn into bandages."

"Right away, sir." James left the room, drawing the doors behind him.

"I'll be right back, I need to find something to use as a bandage.", James spoke over his shoulder as he hurried to the kitchen.

Lucy was beside herself. She was sure Emma was as well. She looked over at the fair woman and noticed her eyes tearing.

"Emma--," she started.

"I'm sorry…..," she began, the tears falling. "He….he can be so stubborn. Even when I try to help."

Lucy's heart went out to her. She was not a monster, not someone easy to dislike. She was kind and good and worried about her fiancé. 'What am I doing?' she said to herself, as she reached out for the woman's hand.

Emma took it for a brief moment, then regaining her composure spoke quietly.

"Thank you, Lucy".

……….

Hours later, Lucy had crept away to her bedroom and left the two of them to talk. It broke her heart to do it, but she had to. She was getting in the middle of something so very complicated. It was easy to not think of Miss Carew before they had met, but now, this woman; this person made of flesh and blood, could not be ignored.

Lucy looked at the ceiling as she felt her eyes well with tears, and she sobbed, quietly to herself.

……….

They were sharing the chaise and staring at the fire.

"She called you 'Henry'", Emma said, her voice flat.

Henry, looking only at the fire responded quietly. "What of it?"

Emma turned to him, raising her hand and slowly running her hand up to his hair.

"Nothing, Henry." Emma let out a sigh. "I'm sorry, it's just…I haven't seen you in so very long, and here you have an assistant….a woman….I'm just…"

Henry turned towards her. "Emma, darling." He stopped, genuinely unsure of how to proceed. He should tell her now. He should free her. But as he looked in her eyes, he lost himself for a moment.

"You know I love you. I-", he started, but Emma raised a hand to his lips.

"Then that is all that needs to be said." She kissed him tenderly.

"Henry, will you be alright?" she said, motioning to his shoulder.

He smiled at her. "Yes, of course. Would you like to lunch Saturday?"

Emma smiled, her eyes sparkling. "That would be lovely. Name your place, and I'll be there."

She rose, heading towards the door. "Walk me out?," she asked in her tiny voice.

"Of course, my darling," he said, walking to the door, kissing her before she left.

"I have to get home. My father is probably worried sick."

He pulled her to him once more and kissed her. "I'll see you soon, my love."

She smiled at him as he pulled the door closed behind her.

Henry Jekyll was not, of course, expecting to turn and see his assistant, Lucy Harris watching him from the upstairs balcony.

"Lucy?"

"Yes. I met Emma this evening. Lovely woman," she said, moving down the stairs towards the landing.

"She is," he said, turning away. "I….she deserves better."

"She does."

Lucy now stood at the ground floor. Henry spun around, incensed by her remark.

"What would you know of it?"

"She's a kind person," she spat back. "You should not have brought me into this!"

"Ah!" Henry exclaimed, striding to his study, to his brandy.

Lucy followed. "It was wrong and you should tell her. She would understand."

He turned to her, the amber liquid in a snifter. "She would not understand. You would not work here, is that what you want? You must know my life would be quite easier if you were not in it!!"

The moment he said it, he regretted it.

Lucy felt tears in her eyes, and she turned before he had the satisfaction of seeing he was the cause of them.

"Lucy, wait. I didn't mean…"

But she was already headed for the stairs.

"You never mean anything!"

"Lucy!!" he called out a single time, before grabbing her wrist as she took the first step. He pulled her to him, her back to his chest.

He tightened his grip and she let out a small gasp. He whispered roughly in her ear.

"You think I have no feelings, but you're wrong."

Lucy made a small sound, but he cut her off, pulling her against him more tightly. "You're wrong, Lucy."

"Don't you know that I feel for Emma. But it's not what I feel for you. Emma has been with me every step of the way, made great personal sacrifices, and I cannot betray her."

"then-"

He pulled her again, silencing her. "But the feelings I have for her are nothing like the feelings I have for you. That is why I've decided to call off the engagement."

She struggled, but he gripped her harder, his hand biting into her wrist. "I feel fire when I touch you, Lucy. I want you so badly sometimes I fear I'm losing my mind. You understand about my work, but you understand me. Every evil thing about me, you understand. And yet you still love me."

She murmured a protest but he silenced her again. "You love me. Say it."

They stayed locked like that for awhile as she decided what to say. She could feel his heart beating through his shirt. She could smell his blood, dried on his shoulder. He pulled at her wrist again, jolting her into reality.

She turned her head around as far as she could and said. "You have it. I love you."

He spun her to him in an instant, crashing her lips to his. She made a soft noise in her mouth as his tongue met her own, feverishly. His hands were everywhere, in her hair, on her corset, grabbing her to him as tightly as he could. Lucy's mouth found his neck as he backed her into the study. The next few moments passed in a blur as he pushed her onto the settee, pinned her hands above her head and took her. Quickly at first, then slowing his pace to make love to her calmly. Her head spun as she grabbed his shoulders, holding on as if he were her oxygen.


	18. Chapter 18

Lucy had not slept in Henry Jekyll's bed. She had retired to her own, and he to his. She assumed they would not be working, as Jekyll would most likely need time to recover from his injury, but she did wish to wake early all the same.

She was having trouble falling asleep. So much had happened in what seemed like such a short space of time. And what of Emma Carew?

Lucy shuddered as she thought of the repercussions of her actions. Then again, he was just as involved as she. He was also to blame.

She silently studied the fabric draped over her bed canopy as she drifted off.

--

Henry awoke at quarter past five and moved to his lab. He would have to re-dress his injury himself. He could not risk any other medical professional realizing what he was doing, and what he had done. Questions would surely be raised, and it was this he strove to avoid.

He brushed his hair out of his eyes and rang for his butler.

Poole appeared not two minutes later. "Yes, sir?"

"Poole, please have tea delivered to me here."

"Very good sir," Poole responded, and started up the stairs.

"Oh, and Poole...,"

Poole turned back towards him. "Yes, Doctor Jekyll?'

"Please send Miss Harris into town. I've left a list of ingredients along with several pounds in the study. Tell her she may take the day if she likes, rainy as it is, and also buy herself any items she wishes."

Poole seemed to stiffen, but replied, "Certainly, sir."

Henry turned back to his formulaic equations, forgetting completely to refresh his own bandages.

--

Poole informed Lucy of what her duties were, and she found the list and the money, which was far too much for the simple ingredients he had selected. Turning to him, Poole then added she could buy what she liked with the remainder.

Lucy took the carriage into town, careful to stay out of the Whitechapel district. She made several stops to obtain all the ingredients; some simple, like garlic, others hard to find, such as peroxide and hydrochloride.

Most of the day had passed, and her skirts dragged with the weight of the water on the soggy ends. As she prepared to head back to the carriage, she noticed a gorgeous dress of peach day-satin. It was elegant, but still appropriate enough for everyday. Stepping inside, she walked to the counter.

Several moments later she had not one, but two dresses; the other a pale blue muslin which made her dark hair positively shine. She also picked up a few underthings that a lady should have. Perhaps these were more for Henry than herself, and she blushed slightly at the thought.

A few minutes later, she was back in the carriage, and settled against the side as she drifted off on the trip back to the manor.


	19. Chapter 19

The rain settled in again. By the time Lucy arrived back at Dr. Jekyll's home the sky was ominous; clouds angry and grey. She peered through the carriage window, her eyes narrowing at the weather as the hansom jolted to a stop. The door swung open.

"Miss...," said the driver and offered the customary hand.

"Thank you," she spoke, gathering the various packages and vials.

She thought she would be blown away by the strong winds and rain just ascending the steps to the main door. Raising a newly gloved hand she knocked, once, twice, and was greeted by Poole.

"Miss Harris, do come in," he said. She noticed his tone had gradually softened towards her. Perhaps he was starting to re-think envisioning her as a mere prostitute. She shook her head to flick the rain off of her hair.

"Good evening, Poole. I tried to hurry as best as I could; I know Doctor Jekyll is in great need of these," she said, extending the packages which he took.

She immediately headed to the laboratory but was cut off by Poole's voice.

"Doctor Jekyll has asked to not be disturbed by anyone, Miss Harris. Not even you."

Lucy turned, looking back at the man quizzically.

"He had us set a table for you for supper. Do let me know when you are ready," he said, and turned on his heel with the ingredients.

Her own package in her arms, she slowly ascended the stairs to her room. The thunder rang out, momentarily scaring her. It was getting closer. She hated these rainstorms; hated the loud noises.

_How strange_, she thought. _How strange he does not wish my help_.

She tried to put it out of her mind, but being naturally curious her brain ran through a hundred possible scenarios. Had she done something wrong?

She rested her head against the heavy wood of her door for a moment, until a loud crack of thunder shook her to her very core. Letting out a small gasp, she quickly figured the handle and let herself inside.

Lucy placed the wrapped package on her bed and slowly removed it. Maybe it was silly to have gotten frilly underthings; maybe everything was over between her and Henry. She sighed, brushing her fingers longingly over the soft muslin. She had new dresses too. Two every-day dresses and one nice one of pale peach satin. Perhaps she'd bought the latter as wishful thinking, but she had so desired something beautiful. Besides, he had told her she was a lady. Lucy blushed to herself and began to hang the garments in the armoire.

Almost an hour later she was dressed in her new everyday dress and headed downstairs.


End file.
